


Rewind

by orphan_account



Category: Gintama
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:55:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hijikata. Shinsengumi. Twelve months. Four seasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All credits go to Sara, my beta reader, who's the most wonderful person ever for working with me last minute right up to the deadline at smoothening the many kinks and flaws with this insane piece.
> 
> Written for Boz

 

 

I. _Mutsuki_ : Affection

The last month of the year was usually when the Shinsengumi took in its new recruits - the recruits were officially enlisted in the new year amidst the festivities and celebrations, a first step towards anchoring their loyalty to the Shinsengumi, which was to be their only true home until their death or discharge. Kondou believed in outward displays of solidarity and comradeship - during the first tentative month the newcomers were treated no differently from anyone else, although they would be gradually introduced to the more menial tasks and made to work their way up the ranks of the Shinsengumi after the first month. Hijikata did not know if this slackening of formal rules had its desired effect, but he did know that new recruits tended to acquire a number of unseemly habits during that period of infancy, and delayed discipline often seemed too late in retrospect. Much to his chagrin, however, the tradition sunk its roots into the Shinsengumi, and probably will continue for many more years to come. 

He joined in most of the celebrations, mostly because Kondou insisted, but there were times when he persisted upon being left alone, and these periods were almost as much a tradition in the Shinsengumi as the first month for the recruits was. The first rising of the sun was his to have alone, as was the _hatsumoude_ if he chose to make the visit. The few hours of privacy were sacrosanct, a part of his life that belonged as much to the Shinsengumi as the rest of him - more a gift out of respect than a concession, but to be treasured even more for that.

The fresh, sharp smell of pine and bamboo permeated the barracks, mingling with the cloying sweet fragrance of the plum blossoms in full bloom and somewhat clearing the air of the heady scent. They were the only splash of colour in the barracks at this time of the year, where different shades of white and off-white snow and plum blossoms dominated the landscape. Hijikata leaned against the railings and carelessly stretched himself out across the wooden floor of the corridor; _hatsunohide_ was fast approaching - already the first rays of sunshine were threatening to the pierce the horizon

The soft crunch of fresh snow under careful footsteps drew him from his reveries - Kondou-san? Hijikata eyed the intruder critically - soft wheat-coloured hair, pale eyes, an arrogant, bitter twist to the lips - a new recruit, most probably a particularly recalcitrant one. The recruit bowed his head almost mockingly, or so Hijikata felt, muttering a soft "Vice-Commander" under his breath without the honorific the newcomers were apt to use. 

"This area is off-limits," Hijikata said dryly. The recruit bowed his head again in acknowledgement; their eyes met briefly when the recruit lifted his head before Hijikata turned his head away in callous dismissal, not even bothering to listen to the reply he was given. It was already dawn. Hijikata stood up; perhaps he should make the first trip to the shrine today after all. 

The fallen blossoms lay crushed behind his footsteps - dead, decaying, and forgotten.

***

"The Vice-Commander wants to be left alone during _hatsunohide_ ," Shimada, one of the older members of the fourth garrison, said surreptitiously later at breakfast, but not softly enough for the words to escape Hijikata's ears. "Don't take offence if he was sharp with you, Itou-san."

"Hijikata-san's anti-social," Okita's voice rang out clearly across the dining hall. Yamazaki stole a glance at Hijikata and started tugging frantically at Okita's sleeve, to no avail. "He's going to end up dead in a gutter one day and no one would even notice."

"Toshi's being shy," Kondou's voice boomed out, "He needs some time to catch up with things, what with you new guys and the new year and all." 

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said acidly, "You've had too much to drink yesterday night, maybe you should go take a short rest." 

Kondou went on happily, heedless of the sudden heavy atmosphere of dread that had beset the dining hall, "There was this time during his birthday when Toshi actually freaked out over...mmph!" The red bean filling from the mochi Hijikata roughly shoved into his mouth spilled out over the edges of lips and stuck to his stubble. 

"Don't talk while you're eating, Kondou-san," Hijikata said, pointedly ignoring the Shinsengumi members' disappointed looks and Okita's amused "Hijikata-san, are you actually afraid of what Kondou-san was going to tell us?"

"Toshi!" Kondou wailed, finally working his way through the mochi. The sticky red bean in his stubble rubbed against Hijikata's skin as Kondou buried his face in Hijikata's neck and lamented his sorrows of having a friend who was entirely too popular with women. Okita turned away, muttering something about a heartless mayonnaise-crazed bastard under his breath.

Down the other end of the table the new recruit curved his lips upwards. Hijikata paused in the middle of lighting his cigarette; the deliberate defiance of the man and the skilfulness with which he obeyed the formal rules while breaking every single tradition struck a discordant chord within the ranks of the Shinsengumi.

It disrupted the peace Hijikata had found within himself.

II. _Kisaragi_ : Change

Itou rose within the ranks of the Shinsengumi with such swiftness that even Matsudaira did not fail to notice him. His success laid in his skill with words more than his exceptional prowess with the sword - there he had his betters in Kondou and Okita, but neither had his easy confidence or charm in the social arena. Hijikata distrusted the suave words as much as he disliked the self-assured smile and effortless grace; Itou was radiant in his success with his superiors - his advice was sought constantly, and in Hijikata's opinion, all too readily given.

It was too fast, too easy, he wanted to say, but Kondou laid a hand upon his shoulder, and his reply, when it came, rang out with unspoken pride and silent assurance.

"But he is one of us."

But you are separating him from us, Hijikata thought, but the words died on his lips when he saw the unconditional trust in his Commander's eyes.

***

Hijikata put down the sheaf of papers in his hands and rubbed his forehead wearily. He dabbed the tip of his brush on the damp ink slab and wrote a few lines across the clean sheet before him; the words looked awkward, unrefined - his brush remained poised above the paper as he read it through a few more times before crumpling up the piece of paper and sweeping it off his desk.

There was a soft knock before the shoji screen was slid to the side. Indignant ire flared within Hijikata despite himself - only Kondou, Sougo, and the other captains had that privilege. Itou bowed his head briefly as he entered. The soft clink of his sword against the wooden floor rattled Hijikata; Itou did not feign respect in adopting a kneeling position - he folded his legs in an easy sitting position and raised an eyebrow quizzically. 

"Reject the offer from the feudal lords," Hijikata said tersely. To him words were wasted on this man, Hijikata believed in the beauty of parsimony; he indulged himself in haiku and despised verbose prose. His disdain included Itou's love for ostentatious speeches - words, words, and nothing but words, yet people succumbed so easily. 

Itou closed his eyes briefly in seeming contemplation. "If I don't?"

"It is an order." The unspoken threat lay heavily between them. 

Itou chuckled softly. His mouth curved cynically; his eyes, fluttering open, spotted the crumpled ball of paper on the floor. Hijikata did not move when he got up to pick it up. The letter fluttered to the floor again soon after, the strong, flowing script spreading across the floor - words denouncing acts of impropriety on Itou's part - where Itou had discarded it.

"You see, Vice Commander," Itou said smoothly, "every man has his weakness," he strode across to where Hijikata sat, his feet deliberately stepping on the letter and tearing it, "and I happen to know yours." He stopped before Hijikata and dropped to his knees, his manner a sharp contrast to his arrogance of minutes ago - his hands, when they cupped Hijikata's face, were reverent and gentle. Leaning across, he whispered a few words in Hijikata's ear, his fingers brushing against the nape of Hijikata's neck and travelling down to rest on his shoulders.

Hijikata stared at the space in front of him blankly; his fists curled into themselves, cutting into his skin in his effort to stop himself from reaching out for his sword. Thoughts of Kondou whirled dizzily in his mind - Kondou was the pillar of the Shinsengumi, he was the man they all raised their swords for, the perfect paragon of loyalty and selflessness. Hijikata could perceive no weakness of character in him; he would not allow anyone to shatter Kondou's faith in the Shinsengumi, the element that bound them all together.

"I'll cut you a deal, Vice Commander," Itou said softly, "I will reject the feudal lords' offer, pleading inexperience and ignorance, and mount your precious Commander on a silver pedestal.

In return..." His fingers tightened around Hijikata's shoulders in a grip strong enough to bruise. "I ask only that you don't resist me." 

The bile rose in his throat when Itou pressed his lips against his brow, trailed them down his cheek, and lightly brushed them against the edges of his lips. The notion was ludicrous to the extreme; _nanshoku_ was not as common as it was - sexual intercourse between men belonged to the era of the samurai - but even if it were as prevalent as before, he could not imagine himself playing the role of the catamite. He looked nothing like the feminine boys he saw in the theatres, with their rouged lips, powdered cheeks and coquettish smiles; if nothing else, he was far too old to be considered a likely candidate. 

Emboldened by his reticence, Itou pulled at Hijikata's obi with his left hand, his right digging into the cloth of Hijikata's kimono and pushing it over his shoulders. The garment pooled around Hijikata's waist and rustled to the ground when Itou pushed him back down against the desk. 

"I don't suppose you're going to say yes," Itou said, his lips twisting into a feral smile. "But I suppose that's what women find so appealing about you, _Vice Commander_." His hands tightened around Hijikata's arms, hard enough to bruise, and his teeth grazed against the skin on Hijikata's neck before sinking themselves deep into the sensitive flesh. Hijikata almost tasted himself when Itou pressed their lips together in an absurdly chaste kiss.

Hijikata almost laughed; he was foolish to think that Itou was looking for sexual gratification - it was nothing but an exertion of dominance and possession, some twisted form of venting of frustration and vengeance. Itou's teeth left a thin trail of blood in their wake; the objective was to mark and scar, to humiliate and degrade, and when Itou roughly pushed his legs up and apart, Hijikata was made even more aware of the stark contrast between them. Itou remained fully clothed - the stiff material of his jacket chafed against Hijikata's abused skin with every move, while Hijikata himself lay naked against his own desk with papers tinged with red scattered around him. 

He was unprepared for the intrusion when it came. His left hand blindly swept over the wet ink slab to find the discarded ink brush, fingers gripping onto the wood and breaking it. The splinters cut into his palms; the pain from the wound became his focus - it was as if the world had dwindled to a bundle of sensations, from the feeling of being split open by the blunt, thick erection that pressed into him, the wetness trickling down his legs, and the sharp, stinging pain of the splinters digging into his palm. He sought relief from the last in an attempt to quell his own overwhelming desire to throw off the man on him and tighten his hands around the man's neck, preferably with enough force to snap it in two. 

Hijikata willed himself to relax around the member in him, but his body, trained in every respect to obey his mind in battle, failed him in this instance. His muscles clenched with every stroke, his body reacting instinctively against this new unfamiliar pain in an almost masochistic way; Itou must have felt pain as well - the abrasion suffered from his forced entry couldn't have been mild - but if he had, he betrayed no sign of it as he resolutely ploughed Hijikata's stiff, hard body. It was an act without pleasure for both of them, even though Itou's breathing eventually sped up with his strokes until he finally released himself within Hijikata. 

Itou remained in Hijikata for a while before abruptly pulling out his softening member, the movement causing almost as much pain to Hijikata's body as Itou's entry did. Itou calmly picked up Hijikata's obi and wiped the blood and semen off his penis as he stood up, smoothly zipping up his pants and straightening his uniform back to its original impeccable state after he had done so.

"You should see yourself now, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, his voice still gruff from his recent release, as he flung the soiled obi down onto Hijikata. "You look absolutely pathetic."

Hijikata looked up at the man towering over him. His grin must have looked half-crazed, but that was exactly what he felt like right then. 

"Your self-perception is amazing." Itou's lips pulled back in a snarl at Hijikata's words; he raised his hand over Hijikata, and Hijikata briefly wondered if he should move to defend himself - he did not think their agreement extended beyond sexual intercourse - but Itou let his arm fall and stomped out of the room, sliding the shoji door close with such force it was a wonder the thin frame did not break.

Hijikata lay there alone for a while after that. The cold air of the early spring morning filtered through the cracks in between the wooden boards. Hijikata shifted; he carelessly pulled his kimono over himself and went over to the doors leading out into the courtyard. The winds that swept into the room as he slid open the doors were freezing, but Hijikata stood at the entrance to his room, wrapped only in his kimono, secure in the knowledge that no one would intrude upon him at this hour, not even Sougo, who would sacrifice almost every hour of sleep but these stillest moments before daybreak in devising ways to get at him.

The sharp scent of fresh bamboo melded with the nauseating blend of metallic blood and pungent sex; the result was a twisted affair of primal desire and animalistic lust that left Hijikata strangely untouched. It was as if the repulsion of the act did not extend beyond the act itself, although his body rebelled against his mind and screamed exhaustion and pain.

A stray blossom, blown into the room by an errant gust of wind, came to rest by his feet. Almost absent-mindedly, Hijikata bent down and picked it up with his left hand. The blood and ink soaked through the delicately pink-tinted petals of the white blossom, in his eyes, the flower shrivelled and lost its beauty.

His fingers pressed into his palm unconsciously, crushing the frail petals and robbing them of their brief existence. 

***

III. _Yayoi_ : New life

Matsudaira gave the reports before him a cursory glance and leaned back in his swivelling chair. Taking a long drag from his cigar, he asked, "So, you think Itou's a good choice to command the division in Kyoto?"

"Yes." 

"He's relatively inexperienced," Matsudaira said thoughtfully, "Not that I have anything against young people - my daughter Kuriko-chan, for instance..."

Hijikata swiftly staved off further paternal reminiscences. "He knows the workings of the political intrigues of higher society, sir."

Matsudaira snorted. "I dislike the insinuations there, Toshi." He puffed out a mouthful of cigar smoke. "But I see your point." With a swift motion, he signed and sealed the document before him.

"Now, back to Kuriko-chan..."

***

"Is this your doing, Hijikata-kun?" Itou flung the offer down onto Hijikata's desk.

Hijikata raised an eyebrow. "And if it is?" He signed off another report, adding a small note to Yamazaki to improve his literary skills at the bottom. "I would accept the offer, if I were you. I don't think the feudal lords look lightly upon insults, even those that exist only in their minds."

"Thank you for the advice, Vice Commander." Itou stalked up to him and leaned down. His teeth nipped at Hijikata's neck, though not deeply enough to draw blood. Hijikata stiffened but did not otherwise respond; their informal agreement still stood, even though Itou had not acted upon it ever since that first night. 

"If I were gentle, would you be pretending that I was someone else?" Itou asked maliciously. He pulled off Hijikata's cravat and his own, roughly tossing them onto the floor. "Would you actually experience arousal?" The wet tongue against the curve of Hijikata's ear made him squirm slightly.

"I've heard that it's possible for a man to feel pleasure from having another inside his body," Itou hissed softly, "Who would you like it to be?"

Hijikata bared his teeth even though he wasn't sure Itou would be able to see it from behind him. "Not everyone shares your sick perversities, Itou." 

Itou chucked softly into his neck. "We'll see about that, shall we?" He rubbed Hijikata's member gently through the fabric of his trousers. "I'll try my best to be nice, as did you," he added venomously, continuing his ministrations until Hijikata hardened under his touch.

"Take it as an expression of gratitude for your concern over my career advancement, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, divesting Hijikata of his clothing and pushing him down onto the floor. A finger rubbed against his anus in circles, gently massaging the skin there, waiting for Hijikata's body to relax before pressing in. The dry intrusion stung, and Itou must have noticed his discomfort, because he withdrew the finger and forced it into Hijikata's mouth instead, thoroughly wetting it before pushing it into his anus again. 

Nausea welled within him, and he bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from gagging. The process was repeated with a second finger - Hijikata stared up beyond Itou at the dust motes on the ceiling and tried to ignore the feeling of the fingers scissoring in him. There were brief flashes of pleasure when Itou managed to brush his prostate, evanescent sparks of arousal that quickly faded at the stronger discomfort of intrusion. He jerked slightly when Itou rubbed a thumb over the head of his cock, gently pressing into the slit as the fingers in him pressed even deeper. The stimulation to his cock worked - when Itou stopped stroking him, the discomfort from being stretched was no longer as pronounced, replaced instead by building pleasure that was transmitted to his erection.

Itou withdrew his fingers and entered him in one stroke. His muscles clenched slightly in response; Itou stilled within him, waiting until Hijikata's body relaxed before he began to thrust slowly and shallowly, gradually picking up pace and depth until he was hitting Hijikata's prostate with every thrust.

"Who am I now?" he whispered against Hijikata's ear, his hand reaching out to stroke Hijikata to completion. Hijikata gritted his teeth and tried to imagine Itou's hand as being his own, this as nothing more than an act of masturbation, but the illusion failed to materialise, not with the hard cock slamming repeatedly into him and the feeling of the heavy weight of another man on him. Repulsion surged within him as his body finally succumbed to the pleasure. He hated his mind for this betrayal, for imposing upon him this self-loathing and disgust of a normal reaction to physical stimulation. There was no stigma attached to responding, but he recoiled anyway, snaking tendrils of hatred curling in him and making him stiffen unconsciously. 

Itou lifted his hand, his eyes gleaming with sadistic triumph as he studied the milky-white substance coating his fingers. The pace of his strokes turned erratic in his excitement; his breath, hot and heavy, lifted the hairs at the nape of Hijikata's neck where he pressed his mouth against, nipping and sucking heavily at the skin there. 

"Toshi," he whispered, his voice gruff and deep from lust as he climaxed.

Time came to an abrupt standstill for Hijikata at the use of the old pet-name. Just like an artist's carefully crafted work of spun glass, his exterior shattered under the mocking familiarity to reveal the raw, bubbling rage underneath. Only the sound of Itou coughing brokenly jerked him back to his senses - one of his fists was still balled up tightly, while the other was clenched firmly around Itou's throat. He loosened his grip, and Itou immediately sat back up, gasping eagerly for air, breath coming in short, jerking wheezes.

"Don't you dare," Hijikata growled, "Don't you dare defile him that way."

Itou wiped the blood off the side of his mouth where Hijikata's fist had connected with flesh. His smile was a twisted affair with his swelling cheek and teeth smeared with blood. "Do try not to be so quick with the accusations, Hijikata-kun." Hijikata's breath caught in his throat as the rabid haze of anger dissipated and realisation dawned upon him. 

"What exactly did I do?" Itou asked hoarsely, "Who was I insulting?" He wound his arms around Hijikata's stiff body. "It's all in your own mind, Hijikata-kun."

Hijikata tried to steady his breathing; his own heartbeat sounded thunderous in his ears, and the pace of his pulse was surely noticeable with the physical contact they had. 

"You must hate me, Itou," Hijikata said. In a reckless fit of abandon he forewent all attempts of pretence. "I've been standing in your way, right at the very place you think you deserve ever since you've arrived." He had never felt freer than he was now. The confession liberated him, the words taking on a power that they normally didn't have because of the conviction he had in them. "Give up, Itou. As long as he lives, this place will always be mine."

Itou's laughter rang out softly, harsh and broken from the damage done to his throat. "Hijikata-kun, you really surprise me at times." He curled his fingers into Hijikata's hair and gently pushed back the stray strands that matted Hijikata's forehead. "But you're wrong on one extremely crucial point.

It's not _about_ you, Hijikata-kun." He cupped Hijikata's chin and lifted his face gently.

"If only he were you," he muttered, brushing their lips lightly together.

***

IV. _Uzuki_ : U-no-hana

"Things have been pretty quiet without Sensei," Kondou said reflectively.

Hijikata paused in the middle of adding a fourth swirl to his mayonnaise topping. "Don't feel it," he said gruffly, adding a few more swirls than intended in annoyance. The mayonnaise tower wobbled dangerously and threatened to spill out of the rice bowl until Hijikata grabbed the bowl and started shovelling the concoction into his mouth. 

"Honestly, Toshi, why do you dislike him so much?" Kondou asked, "His ideas might be a little radical, but you can't deny that we need new blood in the Shinsengumi." He slung an arm over Hijikata's shoulders. "Sensei's great when it comes to politics."

Of course he is, Hijikata thought venomously, it's what he spends all his time doing. Aloud he said, "He's not your Sensei, Kondou-san."

"Toshi, a man learns from everyone he meets." 

Hijikata swallowed the last lump of mayonnaise-coated rice and stood up, shrugging off Kondou's arm carelessly as he did so. "It's time for my rounds."

Kondou-san, you don't call every man you know your teacher.

***

"Toshi!" Kondo wailed piteously, "Why does she not look my way even once?"

"I think it's much better that way, Kondou-san," Hijikata said dryly, "You might not survive the attention." From his point of view, Otae had been noticing Kondou far too much, judging from the severity of the wounds sustained. 

"If only she can see my love for her!" Kondou gulped down another glass of beer. "Can't she see that my love for her has already reached the extent where I cannot rest in peace if she leaves my eyes for one second?" His head flopped onto Hijikata's shoulder as he fumbled for another glass of beer, which Hijikata absently-mindedly moved out of his reach.

"Kondou-san, most normal individuals won't find stalking an appropriate display of affection." 

Kondou, already lost in his own world, rambled on unheedingly. "Toshi, you need to help me." He rubbed his face against Hijikata's neck, the stubble on his chin scratching the skin there irritably. "You know how to deal with women. Please help me get Otae-san to realise my feelings for her."

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said exasperatedly, but paused at the sound of gentle snoring coming from his shoulder. He sighed in resignation and stood up, carefully pulling Kondou to his feet.

"Thank you!" cried the proprietor of the small bar as the door tinkled shut behind them.

***

Getting Kondou out of his uniform was no mean task - the man was like an octopus that clung to anything that he managed to latch upon - but Hijikata finally got him into his casual yukata through sheer force of will.

"Otae-san," Kondou muttered as Hijikata roughly flung a blanket over him. "Otae-san..." His face scrunched up in agitation - Hijikata wondered if the Otae in Kondou's dreams was being particularly violent right now. 

Hijikata peeled the fingers clutching onto his kimono off impatiently. "I'll try talking to her, but I'm not going to be a replacement punch bag, so you can give up any illusions of me holding a conversation lasting more than ten minutes."

Kondou shifted in his sleep restlessly. "Toshi..."

"I _said_ I'll try talking to her, not that you're capable of hearing anything at the moment," Hijikata moved to get up, but Kondou's hand snapped out to catch his in a death grip. 

"Oi, Kondou-san, there's only so much leeway you can give to a drunk," Hijikata said. His hand twitched uncomfortably in Kondou's heated grasp.

"Toshi."

Hijikata turned back to look at his Commander. Kondou seemed to have settled down, dark features composed in a slight smile, his chest heaving steadily with each slow breath. Hijikata laid his hand across Kondou's forehead. Kondou's skin was still warm from the alcohol he had consumed, and Kondou's eyebrows furrowed slightly at the touch of Hijikata's cooler hand before relaxing again. The warmth radiating from Kondou's palm moistened the dry skin of their hands and softened the familiar calluses that rubbed against his own. He knew that touch and how every callus was acquired, knew every single stroke of the tennen rishin-ryuu style that Kondou patiently taught him although he could not hope to attain the same level of achievement in the art. Through Kondou, he saw the past, present, and future; his life went back to the day he met Kondou in the dojo in Bushuu - he had memories that went back before that, but they were blurry and unfocused, paling in significance to man that lay before him.

_Who am I now?_

Not him.

***

"Why, Hijikata-san, it's rare seeing you here without the Gorilla. Is he coming in later?" Otae's voice was dripping honey, never a good sign, as far as Hijikata knew.

"No," Hijikata said. Shimura Tae blinked a couple of times in surprise before she regained her composure. Her smile lost some of its fake sweetness, replaced instead by open curiosity and interest.

"Hijikata-san," Oto called, walking over to where they stood, "Isn't your Commander coming today?" She shot Otae a smug smile that unfortunately lost most of its effect, Otae being secure in the knowledge of a stalker-free night.

Hijikata almost failed to prevent a sigh from escaping. He knew Kondou was inapt when it came to women, but the task of clearing his Commander's image, much less enhancing it, seemed an almost insurmountable one.

"No." 

Oto's surprise equalled Otae's, but her competitive instincts immediately took over. "Why, Hijikata-san, I'm happy to be your companion for the night." 

"I thank you for the offer, but I would like to ask for Otae-san." Otae returned Oto's murderous look with an amused smile. Oto flushed angrily and cast one last accusatory look at Hijikata before flouncing off, stomping on an unfortunate customer's toe on the way. 

"Hijikata-san, what has the Gorilla been up to now?" Otae asked. 

"Nothing." At Otae's quizzical look, he added, "Nothing out of ordinary."

"Hijikata-san," Otae's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "With Gori, the ordinary _is_ the abnormal."

"He's just incapable of expressing his feelings," Hijikata said, trying to stay faithful to his promise even though the conversation seemed to be going rapidly downhill. 

A dangerous glint flashed across Otae's eyes. "Which is why you're here to do it for him."

Hijikata paused for a moment. "No," he said, "I'm only here to help you understand him." He drank another mouthful of wine from the glass before him. "Kondou-san thinks only in black and white - it doesn't mean that he's incapable of seeing anything else, he simply refuses to." The wine shimmered through the thin glass, a dull, murky red under the dim lightings of the club. "He sees you as the ideal woman, someone who would eventually be taken in by his sincerity."

"It's not you, Otae-san," he added hastily when he saw the steel in Otae's eyes. "It's Kondou-san. He doesn't see your rejection as the result of anything else beyond the possibility of him not trying hard enough." 

"Hijikata-san, that was about the longest speech I've ever heard you make," Otae said. "Tell me, what do the Shinsengumi actually see in the Gorilla?" she asked as she refilled Hijikata's glass, the soft-pink sleeves of her kimono falling over her pale hands with her slow, graceful movements. Perhaps Kondou was more discerning than he seemed - Otae _was_ beautiful, violent tendencies and stubbornness aside. 

"He's our Commander."

Otae raised an eyebrow. "I was expecting a more eloquent answer from you."

"There won't ever be anyone else." 

Otae sighed. "I'm sure there won't be." She shifted a little in her seat next to him on the couch, the extended inaction making her restless. "Are you actually saying that I should _encourage_ him to get him to stop stalking me?"

Hijikata's fingers tightened around his wine-glass. "I don't know. Perhaps. He hasn't been this persistent before." It was true. Kondou did experience the occasional crush, but it never lasted beyond the short depression after rejection. "I'm sorry."

Blood-red wine sloshed into his glass as she refilled his glass once more. Her fingers curved gently around his, feeling somewhat different from the fingers of other women he had touched before - soft skin and rough calluses from constant practice with the wooden sword. "Whatever for? For failing to look after your human-sized pet properly?"

He subtly drew his hand away from hers. "I would like to get a Don Peri." 

The apology was actually a selfish one, but he could not tell her that, for he did not know the reason for it himself, other than it being something he needed to say.

***

V. _Satsuki_ : Speed

There was a quiet area in Kabuki-chou that catered specifically to patrons who desired anonymity and were willing to pay for it - an area far removed from the rowdiness and cheap gaudiness of Otae's quarter. It wasn't to Matsudaira's tastes, but the daimyo did patronise the area once in a while, and it was during one of his experimental forays that he had brought Hijikata along and introduced him to one of the oiran who worked under Matsudaira's taiyuu.

***

His partner blushed when he leaned in to kiss her. She gripped onto his sleeves, her body melting under his touch, mouth opening eagerly under his when he probed her lips demandingly with his tongue. Her chest heaved with excitement, her lips remained slightly parted after he ended the kiss, swollen and red, like the glittering rubies she wore on her ears. Desire made her glow under her carefully applied make-up, transforming her from being merely conventional beautiful into a work of seduction, a fresh bud that blossomed into full bloom. Beads of sweat glistened on her skin, the result of lust and the heat of the midsummer night; the silken strands of her long, dark tresses were moist under his fingers - the heavy strands spread out like a dark coverlet around her where she lay on the cotton sheets, emphasising the soft, delicate paleness of her skin, gleaming through the folds of her rumpled kimono.

Her breathing quickened as he slowly undressed her, unwrapping the layers of silk as if he were opening a rare gift. He rubbed gently at a pink nipple, watching it hardened and darken under his fingers. A soft cry escaped her lips when he bent down to suck at the nipple. The cry turned into a strangled gasp when he tugged at the sensitive part of flesh with his teeth, and her fumbling hands, desperately reaching out for some anchor, found the front folds of his yukata and pulled the light garment down and off his shoulders. 

She made a wonderful partner, being a woman who was already so experienced that she had perfected the ideal of a lover - she knew when to hide her knowledge, when to conceal her pleasure, when to respond with wanton abandon, and how to infect her partner with her desire. With him, she found the perfect match, something she reluctantly admitted after one of their sessions - neither of them cared much for the other beyond the gratification they could each provide, and with him, she could give up her normal role of providing for a man's pleasure and selfishly take instead for her own physical fulfilment. 

His fingers, delving into her, came away slickened with evidence of her arousal and readiness. Her body hungrily opened up under him; soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips, and she eagerly urged him on, arching up to draw him in deeper in a need to complete the coupling. The actual intercourse was dictated more by her needs than his - he sought only the ultimate release - all he did was go along with her flow, following the small indications of her wants until she tightened under him briefly and relaxed into blissful state of physical satisfaction.

There had many others before her, failed experiments that he discarded after one quick tryst. In her, he found everything he did not desire - gentleness, comfort, warmth, innocence. Physically she was also the exact opposite of his fantasies - dark, lush, a woman in full bloom rather than a girl just blossoming into womanhood. That was why he allowed himself to remain with one woman to fulfil his physical needs rather than continue flitting from one to another. He doubted he could find a better replacement, and the process of acclimatising himself to a new sexual partner was always bothersome and a needless waste of precious energy. 

"I'll be having the day off Saturday next week," she said, skilfully redoing her hair and touching up her make up before the mirror. He did not deem to reply as she was not expecting any answer. She did not take payment from him, at least, not in money. He paid her in a much cruder form - by providing her with the sexual gratification she failed to obtain from other men. 

"Good bye, samurai-san," she said, kissing him mockingly at the side of the lips. 

***

"Toshi, where have you been?" Kondou cried when he entered the barracks. "Otae-san actually gave me one of her bento boxes today! Does this mean she's finally softening?" He gripped Hijikata's shoulders enthusiastically. "What did you say to her? It worked!"

"I didn't say anything." Hijikata flinched a little. His body seemed much more finely aware of physical touch after sex, and the warmth of Kondou's fingers pressing into the skin at the juncture between his neck and shoulders tingled uncomfortably.

"You must have!" Kondou exclaimed, but his exhilaration quickly faded to puzzlement. "Toshi?"

Hijikata jerked back when Kondou rubbed a thumb across his lips. "Kondou-sa..." 

"Toshi, you never told me." Kondou lifted his thumb to show the trace of red rouge across the rough skin.

***

VI. _Minazuki_ : Water

"Who is she?" Kondou asked.

"Someone," Hijikata replied offhandedly. In truth, he did not know who she was anymore than Kondou did. 

"Toshi!" Kondou sounded hurt. "You could at least tell me!" 

"There isn't anything to tell, Kondou-san," Hijikata said wearily. "She's an oiran." 

Kondou stared at him in disbelief. "But...Toshi, you don't have to." A wave of unreasonable anger washed over Hijikata at the words.

"Who said so?" He shook off the remaining hand on his shoulder. "Everyone does it, Kondou-san. Don't you have urges beyond those few times with Ossan?" He felt a slight twinge of guilt when he saw the hurt in Kondou's eyes and bit back the rest of his charade, but the irrational jealousy still burned. The underlying accusation was unjustified - Kondou had not bedded any woman ever since he met Otae, not to Hijikata's knowledge, and Hijikata envied him for his faith and conviction in a future with Otae. It was what he did not, could never, have. 

Kondou grabbed his hand, and the understanding in his eyes stopped Hijikata from pushing him away. 

"You're only hurting yourself, Toshi." 

***

"How much is she?"

"Kondou-san." Even Kondou could not fail to hear the warning in Hijikata's voice, but apparently Kondou was going to persist on the topic until he had enough knowledge to satisfy him.

"I know how much they cost, and if you're seeing her...them....regularly, your pay will never be enough. At least let me..."

"I pay her by other means. She has other needs besides money." Hijikata hesitated over answering the hidden question. "And I see only one."

The silence after hung between them uneasily. Finally, Kondou chose to break it by saying awkwardly, "I thought you would have a few."

"Would it have made a difference?" Hijikata asked. 

Kondou paused, the worry in his eyes growing, and pulled Hijikata towards him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly in comfort.

***

VII. _Fumizuki_ : Book

"Vice Commander, here are the reports for today." Hijikata waved Yamazaki to the side. 

"Where's Kondou-san? At the Shimura dojo?" Yamazaki shook his head and settled into a comfortable kneeling position opposite Hijikata. "The Commander's in his room." 

Hijikata's brush paused a moment before resuming its path across the page. "Oh? Isn't it closing time for Otae-san now?" He gave the ink a few seconds to dry before rolling up the scroll and placing it in the bundle next to him. The cicadas hummed in a soft cacophony outside in the yard - it was their most active hour of the night, and the few days of early autumn were their last few days of activity before the cold set in. 

"The Commander hasn't been sta...seeing Otae-san after work lately." Yamazaki flipped through his notebook. "He still sees her in the day at the dojo when he goes out on rounds. When he's not on rounds he'll make a short visit before she heads off to work. The neighbourhood says they don't see him around as often, especially at night. The reasons for his absence are as of yet unknown, but it is certainly not due to any lack of passion on his part, for he still declares..."

"Yamazaki, if you continue with that horrible essay of yours you'll be committing a seppuku offence." Hijikata lit a cigarette and walked past Yamazaki out into the yard, not bothering to shut the folding doors behind him.

Yamazaki sat there in silence for a while as he mulled over his report. 

"Wait...what offence is _that_?"

***

"Toshi!" Kondou stopped him at the entrance of the barracks. 

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and stomping it out irritably. "I really don't see the point of this."

"I might not be much use as a Commander, but I _am_ here to prevent you from going off the wrong track." 

"Kondou-san, having sex is hardly what you would call 'going off the wrong track'." Hijikata tried to shrug off Kondou's hand, but his Commander tightened his grip around his arm. 

"I don't mean that."

"Then I don't know what you mean." Hijikata stood still stolidly until Kondou loosened his hold. Knowing Kondou, the man was bound to try to explain in his painfully honest way his intentions, but Hijikata was not in the mood to reopen old wounds and dwell upon stale regrets. Kondou was always one to reflect upon past wrongs and memories; Hijikata survived them, learned from them, and discarded them as he would a cigarette stub. 

"Good bye, Kondou-san."

***

"You're not in the mood today," she whispered softly into his ear. Hijikata drew her into his arms and pressed his face into her hair. Her delicate fragrance filled his senses, temporarily clouding his already tumultuous thoughts. Her wild difference from those familiar and dear to him was precious, and he treasured her like he did no other woman he had bedded before. 

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said graciously, as she could always afford to be generous, "but you'll have to leave soon; I have an important client coming."

She sighed in exasperation when she pulled away to look up at him. "I don't know what I see in you - you're about as unprofessional as they come."

***

"Brother, would you like to share a smoke?" Hijikata looked to his right to see a youth dressed in tattered jeans and a lose T-shirt sitting next to him. A long silver chain dangled from the youth's left ear. Hijikata shifted to get up from the bench, but the teenager caught his hand, the long, cool chain on his ear brushing against Hijikata's shoulder bone as he leaned forward.

"Come on, we lonely folk spending our time in deserted parks out in the middle of the night need whatever company we can get, yeah?" 

"Get lost." 

"Don't be too hasty, brother," the youth said. "You don't know what I have to offer." Hijikata's stomach roiled in disgust when the youth gave him a quick lick across his neck. "Sometimes you need a man to take what you can give." The youth's smugness turned into a surprised yelp when Hijikata grabbed him by his neck and slammed him into the back of the bench.

"I told you to back off." 

The teenager stared at him brazenly. "Why not? If you haven't tried it before, why not give it a try to see if you like it or not? I like you. Well, I like your looks, but that's the same thing for us."

Hijikata let go of the youth and turned away. The young man, encouraged by the withdrawal, pressed forward and lightly kissed the side of his neck. "Most people don't know what they're missing until they've tried it."

He was hardly that curious, but resentment spurred him on. Memories of the cold spring nights drove him to press the boy - regardless of the jaded smile and hard eyes, the youth was still not yet a man - into a musty bed in some cheap hotel in the cheap quarter of Kabuki-chou. His hands seemed to drive the youth wild, twisting and gasping out his pleasure under him. The sight revolted him; he had never known that physical arousal was such an ugly creature - it looked beautiful on women, but on men, it was nothing but primitive and uncouth. Through that young face he saw himself, and he saw no beauty in it, much less felt any desire from the sight.

Choked by repulsion, he got up and left, ignoring the cry of protest from the boy he left behind.

***


	2. Chapter 2

VIII. _Hazuki_ : Leaf

He did not attend her funeral, partly because he hated seeing people weep, mostly because he felt there was no place for him. It was mid-autumn, when the trees were heavily shedding the foliage and the ground was strewn with dust-red leaves that swirled around his feet with the chilly autumn gusts. 

It was midnight when he returned to the barracks, cold and wet from the rain, his tongue stinging from the spiciness of the senbei he had eaten. Okita's eyes burned with anger when he saw him the next day, but Okita did not lash out beyond remaining in frosty silence throughout the day. He suspected Kondou's hand in this, although he avoided Kondou beyond the extremely brief meeting they had during the morning routine. Kondou's sympathy was not something he was ready to accept yet, regardless of the worry he was causing his Commander. In his state of numbness he was able to shield himself from the sorrow until it retreated into the deeper recesses of his emotions, and any attempt to dig out his grief only served to intensify it. 

"Danna, your presence was missed."

The Yorozuya ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Really?" He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. "I'm always a bad presence at public crying events, so trust me on this - you really don't want me there. I've already personally sent my apologies to your sister, and she agrees with me."

"Danna, my sister isn't the kind that comes back to haunt the living after death." 

"Oh, it depends. Some people just _ask_ to be haunted." The casual statement brushed across the edges of his awareness and sparked unwanted feelings in its relentless accuracy. He vaguely heard Okita replying, but he was too lost in his own flood of confused emotions to hear the words. In life she made him long for her; in death she took away his longing for her just as she had stripped away every carefully concealed emotion - he now ached to desire her almost as much he used to desire her, but the heat of passion, buried under the weight of grief and remorse, was no longer tenable.

"Oi, mayonnaise addict." Hijikata looked up to see that only he and Gintoki remained by the dango stall. 

Gintoki bit off another dango from his stick. "You're really quiet today. The mayonnaise finally got to your brains?"

"Shut up, diabetic idiot."

The normalcy, callous as it might seem, calmed him enough to help him miss her.

***

He no longer visited the quiet quarter of Kabuki-chou, Mitsuba's death seemingly having taken away his need for the oiran or any other woman. It was not that he practised abstinence; it was just that the need for sexual relief had faded to a level where he did not require a woman. He plunged himself into the dull routine of work with a fervour that eclipsed his growing longing for her. Kondou watched him most of the time, worry etched across his features, but Hijikata waved him off as he did the other helpful Shinsengumi members. Kondou was not his outlet for venting, however much Kondou might have wanted him to rely upon him, for his mind was incapable of contemplating Kondou as someone to share his sins with, his pursuit to perfect the Shinsengumi, and through the Shinsengumi, their Commander, being his ultimate goal in life. 

During those lonely autumn nights after the initial crushing grief was overcome, he permitted himself to dwell upon her, inking meaningless haiku across scrap paper and burning them after. The longing finally returned, and he welcomed and even nurtured the bitter emotion as being his only gift to her. He felt that he could not desire any other but her in this way - his passion for Mitsuba being something that transcended the lust between man and woman into a realm where passion and emotional need were so intertwined that it was impossible to distinguish the physical and the emotional.

***

He did meet the Yorozuya once during those days. Gintoki was at another one of his odd jobs, this time acting as a temporary bodyguard of an antique shop. Amidst the musty, aged artefacts that accumulated value and charm as the seconds ticked by, he confessed his hidden thoughts to someone so alike it felt he was voicing his guilt to himself.

"She has granted me closure."

His other self did not reply, silence being the only understanding Hijikata required in return. 

***

IX. _Nagatsuki_ : Long month

The last days of autumn sped by, blazing their trail with red and brown in a golden rush of dying energy. His yearning for Mitsuba gradually faded into a mild, constant heartache that was buried under the flurry of activity within the Shinsengumi as they prepared for the imminent winter. Kondou finally satisfied himself that Hijikata was emotionally well and left him alone. His nights were his once more, although he no longer left the barracks except to do his rounds. The oiran sent him a message once, a cold affair that spoke of need and necessity under fake endearments and passionate entreaties, but he discarded the letter, the reason being no other than that he no longer felt the need. 

Okita never forgave him, something for which he was partially grateful for. It was as if her brother was berating him on her behalf, taking on a role that she was incapable of herself. The resentment that Okita harboured seemed to fester and grow, and the rivalry between them transformed into something that teetered at the brink of peer competitiveness and malicious contention. The tricks and ploys that awaited him at every turn honed his alertness and sensitivity for danger; Okita aimed to ensure that he got no peace, and Okita achieved that with a success that guaranteed from the very start, given his ingenuity at inventing new tactics faster than Hijikata could figure his newest whims out.

"Hijikata-san, it's my win again," Okita said calmly, pressing his wooden practice sword against Hijikata's neck. Ever since suffering defeat under Hijikata's hands, he had taken to training with a vengeance that surprised Kondou, for Okita, sure in his genius and talent, never believed in work when he could rely upon natural talent. The month of hard training, however, had taken him so far that Hijikata felt that Okita was now beyond his comprehension - before Okita's genius capable of appreciation, now the young Captain strived to detach himself from emotion during battle and succeeded at it. Okita was as temperamental as he had been when he was a ten-year-old when he was his usual self, but once he drew his blade his emotions were shoved aside and his purely physical abilities took over. 

The result was usually that the checked emotions overflowed when Okita snapped out of his battle mode - the blade dictated the expression of his emotions, and violence commanded the sword, even one that was raised in protection. 

Hijikata pushed the heavy wood away from his neck and sat up. Okita definitely picked him for training for nothing but the sole purpose of tormenting him. There were better opponents more worthy of Okita's swordsmanship in the Shinsengumi, but Okita nevertheless still asked for a match occasionally, and it wasn't his place to refuse even if he had wanted to, which he did not, because he was certain that Okita's glee would more likely be better fuelled by refusal than actually beating the hell out of him.

"Hijikata-san," Okita's blade moved to block him when he tried to stand up.

"The duel's over."

"Don't you miss her?" Hijikata's heart skipped a beat at the question, but he quickly composed himself and roughly pushed away the blade again.

"It's none of your business, is it?" The next few moves happened so quickly that Hijikata almost failed to see the blur of the sword before finding him pressed against the floor of the dojo, his chest and stomach burning from the force of the attack.

"For what she felt for you, you could at least _show_ something." Okita's fists twisted angrily into the folds of his kimono. "She saved herself for you even though she knew you would never take her. If it wasn't because Father made her marry, she would never have considered marriage.

You could have at least made her suffer less," he said, and the accusation echoed throughout Hijikata's mind. "I don't know what you could have done, but I do know that you had the capability and failed to do it.

At the very least, you shouldn't have walked away from her without doing something to soften the pain." Okita's cheeks were flushed with anger. "How many days had she lost over you, you bastard?" The words hit painfully close to home. Hijikata believed in the necessity of his choices, especially those involving her. He had failed to reckon with her obstinacy, however, in selfishly imposing his judgements upon her life. Remaining single was her way of screaming defiance into his face, but he had chosen to ignore it and cut her off from his life instead. Mitsuba, who had Sougo's intelligence and talent, and a maturity that Sougo still had not acquired, had assented to marrying a husband that was a failure in every sense of the word, and Hijikata felt that was her final attack against him in a long series of battles that formed the essence of their relationship. 

"Don't you ever think about her?" The question seemed ludicrous coming from Sougo, of all people. Sougo, who was so alike and unlike her, who had her wheat-coloured hair and rust-red eyes, who even resembled her in the outlines of his slightly rounded face, being still trapped in the awkward transition between boy and man. Even his character resembled hers, and given time, he might come to possess her mind completely even as he loses the resemblance in looks.

Okita's features twisted and reformed - longer hair, done up in a high ponytail the way Mitsuba did her hair in Hijikata's fondest memories, higher cheekbones, smaller lips, gentler, more compassionate eyes. Hijikata pressed a hand to Okita's forehead, and in a sudden, impulsive act of compulsion, pulled him...her down towards him. 

"Hijikata-san, you're forever pathetic," Okita said, pressing into the kiss, and Hijikata responded against his better judgement. This wasn't Mitsuba - she wouldn't delve into his mouth with such hunger; she would be softer, more slender and delicate. Okita was wrong on so many counts, but they were alike enough that he was able to touch her through him, feel her react to his kiss with an answering desire that fuelled his own. Mitsuba, unreachable both in life and death, was physically attainable through her brother, although she remained emotionally locked away in the deep recesses of his mind. 

Hijikata kept his eyes opened; if he closed them, his vision of her vanished, as it was sustained only by shallow physical appearance. It was Mitsuba who kissed him on his brow, who pulled apart the folds of his kimono and touched him wonderingly, who returned his desire with equal passion. His mind, so entranced with his illusion of her, did not even falter when his legs were pushed apart and a hard erection was pressed into his body. The pain was no longer repulsive because it was her; Mitsuba might have taken on the form of a man to come to him, and his body, encouraged by the twisted imaginations of his mind, hungrily accepted whatever she gave and demanded more. 

"You almost make me think you've done this before," she whispered. He. Sougo. The illusion shattered at the sound of Sougo's voice, and Hijikata found himself crashing back to reality, where she no longer existed in life and he was actually engaged in sexual intercourse with her only brother. He was still too dazed with pleasure to feel physical revulsion, but his mind retched at the position he was in and took control of his physical movements.

Okita grabbed the hands that tried to shove him away. "When I see you, I miss her even more." He buried his face in Hijikata's neck, and Hijikata jerked at the hot wetness that burned against his skin. "I hate you, Hijikata-san." He drove deeper into Hijikata's body, hard, steady thrusts that sparked pleasure that Hijikata had never felt before. "I was hoping that by taking you, I could somehow help her have you." Hijikata's heart twisted at the pain in the words, and he cautiously wrapped his arms around Okita and drew him closer. Was this what she would have wanted him to do? How did she provide comfort to her brother? He had never thought to ask.

"It's all your fault it's not working." Okita sought his mouth desperately, and he kissed back, taking control of the situation and arching up to meet Okita's thrusts - Mitsuba would have done anything to ease her brother's anguish, and he strived to take on her role, inadequate as he was as a replacement. 

"Don't," Okita choked, "Bastard, you've already done more than enough." 

They both froze at the sound of the doors to the dojo suddenly sliding open. "Sougo," a familiar voice called. Hijikata clenched around Okita in apprehension, dread curling in his belly, Kondou must not see this; he _cannot_ see this. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the wooden floor, but every move served only to intensify their arousal - Okita let out a choked gasp of involuntary pleasure; Hijikata suspected Okita was inexperienced in this despite his control. Okita was too easily excited, too responsive and eager.

"Toshi," Kondou's voice sounded strangled, and Hijikata heard the unvoiced accusation in the single word. They were both willing - he and Sougo, and thus the blame lay entirely with him for failing to prevent himself from succumbing to the desire. He could not push Sougo away now, and he would not, knowing that Okita would be permanently hurt by the rejection after the confession, and Hijikata could not allow himself to do that. He wondered what they looked like, young man-child and older man tangled together on the wooden floor in a frantic coupling. He thought of the nameless youth that had moaned his pleasure under him, thought of those two painful nights spent during spring. Okita was anything but that. Beautiful in his aroused state, he was the perfect mixture of hard iron and youthful malleability. Hijikata knew that his mind was once against shaping Okita into his ideal of Okita's sister, but the sight heightened his own arousal and deepened his hidden longing for Mitsuba.

"Toshi." Hijikata felt warm hands brush away the sweat-slicked hair from his face tenderly. Sougo looked up, and the hands moved to wipe away the tears from Okita's face with equal care. The streaks on Okita's face surprised him despite his knowledge of Okita crying - when had they come to the point where the sight of each other drove them to mutual flagellation? 

Kondou carefully lifted him up - and Okita with him - so that he half-leaned against Kondou with Okita pressed up against him. Kondou must have made some sign to Okita from behind him, because Okita dropped his head onto Hijikata's shoulder and started thrusting up into him again, the gravity helping him move deeper into Hijikata's body even as Hijikata pressed down onto the hardness driving into him. It was as if Kondou's presence had smoothened the exchange between them, eased the conflict and brought the need they had for each other out into the open. In Kondou's presence, their underlying mutual resentment faded to the background, and they were able to focus instead on fulfilling their respective needs without subconsciously lashing out at each other. 

Okita came first, thrusting raggedly into Hijikata in short, violent strokes before filling him with an uncomfortable stickiness. A hand that stroked his own member brought him to completion not soon after, his muscles clenching around the softening member as he gasped out his own pleasure. Kondou's arms tightened around Hijikata while his right hand sped up its movements, drawing Hijikata's pleasure from him until he went limp in his Commander's arms.

"I will not be as lenient the next time I catch both of you doing this." Hijikata twisted his head around to look at Kondou. Kondou's features were strained, and he could see the worry underlying the reproach. 

"It's all Hijikata-san's fault," Okita said tiredly, but the words this time held no malice, said more out of habit than anything else. Kondou's arms were still wrapped protectively around Hijikata, and Hijikata tightened his own arms around Okita, pulling the young body closer - it _was_ his fault, he thought, still remembering how Sougo's lips had felt under his own. The first tendrils of guilt were already making themselves despite his own and Kondou's efforts, and Hijikata was suddenly overcome by a need to detach himself from this strange, twisted bond that the three of them shared.

"Kondou-san," he said, turning back to the front to stare down at the top of Okita's head, humiliation warring with the satisfaction of physical release within him, "What about you?" Kondou shifted uneasily, his hard erection pressing against Hijikata through the fabric of his kimono. "It'll go away."

"It won't." Hijikata lightly let go of Okita and turned around. He deftly undid the Kondou's obi despite his Commander's protests, wasting no time in finding Kondou's hardness with his fingers and stroking it swiftly with his right hand. He felt Okita watching, the young man's gaze heated and hungry, as he bent down to take the hard piece of flesh in between his lips, exercising extreme control to prevent himself from gagging at the taste and texture of the flesh under his tongue. 

Hesitant fingers snaked under his kimono and rubbed against his entrance, probing gently at the sore area before pressing inside. Hijikata choked around the flesh in his mouth at the intrusion; his body was still loose from being fucked, and every touch against the sensitised flesh made him gasp in pleasure, his hot breath blowing across the already very erect cock that hardened even further as he sucked laboriously. 

"Toshi, I can't take this from you, not with you in this state..." A slight scrape of his teeth against the foreskin, and Kondou was pulsing in his mouth, feeling his tastebuds with a bitter essence that made his stomach curl in abhorrence. He abruptly released the member, jerking away and feeling Okita's fingers slide out of his body with the sudden movement. He felt strangely bereft without the fingers buried in his body - the emptiness, coupled with the disgust his body felt at the foreign taste in his mouth, led him to turn violently aside and dry-retch, his body heaving with racking gasps and coughs even though he vomited nothing but air and some of the bitter substance, mingled with his own bile. 

"Kondou-san, we should forget this." The pain in Kondou's eyes will probably haunt him throughout the years. He should have accepted the initial generosity and left it at that. This one single mistake, and all that he had painstakingly built was falling apart by the seams. 

Sougo pressed up against him possessively, his arms drawing Hijikata into a tight embrace that moved the two of them away even further from their Commander in this strange relationship.

Mitsuba binds us together, Hijikata thought wearily, and neither of us have the will to release ourselves. 

***

X. _Kannazuki_ : Month without gods

The acknowledgement of Muramasa's hold over him was humiliating. His first impulse was to tell Sougo - he did not want to burden Kondou with such absurdities, and his guilt over jeopardising their relationship by making the wrong decision at such a crucial moment still hounded him even after a year from the disaster. 

He had not expected Okita to take his concerns seriously - he himself thought that he was bordering on insanity by believing the mad stories of a decrepit old man, but looking at the Tomoe-chan figurines that were strewn about the room, he could no longer delude himself as to the truth of the ridiculous legend. 

"I'm being possessed by an otaku whose spirit got trapped in a sword I now own and can't get rid of," he said, regretting his choice of words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth, and Okita, doubling over with his effort to conceal his laughter, only made him feel even more helpless. 

"I'm serious, Sougo," he said, aching to draw his sword and beat Okita over the head with it, although that now no longer seemed an option with Muramasa safely sheathed by his side.

"I'll take over your place when you finally evolve into a full-fledged otaku, Hijikata-san," Sougo said, his lips twitching with uncontrolled mirth.

***

"You're really working on it, Hijikata-san," Okita noted with amusement, emptying yet another stash of hurriedly hidden To-Love figurines, limited edition, priced at 20000yen each. "Are you that eager to let me take over your position? I think you'll need at least twenty stomachs to fully complete the sentences for all the offences you have right here."

He whipped out a sailorfuku dress - Tomoe-chan, Hijikata thought with dread - with sadistic glee. "Planning on cosplaying? Hijikata-san, why don't we try it right now?" 

"Don't be an idiot, Sougo," Hijikata snapped, snatching the dress and throwing it onto the ground, realising with horror that his feet were steadfastly refusing his mind's orders to stomp on the offending garment. 

Okita pulled him down for a kiss. "Don't worry, Hijikata-san," he said as his hands quickly undid the buttons of Hijikata's jacket. "What we do in this room stays in this room."

***

Hijikata sloshed the wine in his glass about irritably before gulping it down. The liquid burned in his throat, and his eyes filled with moisture from the stimulation by the alcohol. He sloppily held out his glass for a refill, waving aside the bartender's admonitions and swallowing the new wine in one go. He stood unsteadily, swaying dangerously on his feet, right arm once again outstretched for a refill. He was hoping that if he drank enough he might be able to drown Muramasa with alcohol, and along with Muramasa all crazy thoughts about Tomoe-chan and Hikari-chan and To Love Only doujinshi events. The ploy seemed to be failing abysmally, as Muramasa only got drunk along with him and came up with even crazier ideas, mostly involving a certain life-size bust doll with the most ridiculous body proportions ever. 

A hand helped steady him before he fell over on his feet. Hijikata squinted, the dim light of the bar and his own blurred drunken vision making it impossible for him to distinguish anything but vaguely blurry shapes that moved about the room.

"Sou...go?" he asked, the words barely comprehensible with his slur, before finally collapsing in a drunken heap.

***

Hijikata awoke to the familiar wooden beams of the ceilings in the Shinsengumi barracks. His head spun with the aftermath of the alcohol of the previous night, and Muramasa hummed in annoyance in the background when Hijikata's body failed to respond to its command to turn on the television for the opening sequence of Tomoe-chan. Hijikata turned his face into his pillow - it was all right, he had already set the tape recorder to auto-record anyway. 

"Hijikata-kun," a voice said from behind him. Hijikata turned over to see Itou sitting cross-legged over him, his eyes hidden by the glint of his glasses, mouth curved slightly in that damned cynical smirk of his. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

"One year, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "One year, and I actually find Kondou Isao rebuking you on my behalf." He smiled. "I see that you're hardly surprised at my knowledge, Hijikata-kun. I bet you're chafing to know who exactly is my source of information, not that it would do anything to better your current position."

Itou leaned forward. "Kondou obviously still has a soft spot for you, regardless of whatever had happened to break up the blind trust he had in your abilities; if I had my way you would be passed on to me to deal as I pleased. Now, however, you're..." he paused thoughtfully, "I really shouldn't be telling you this; it's meant to be a surprise, after all."

Hijikata forced himself up despite the splitting migraine he had. "If you're done, get out."

Itou lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Vice-Commander, you really should see the relative positions we're in." He tugged at the sleeve of Hijikata's kimono and moved his hands over to the front to part the folds of the garment. Hijikata's breath caught in his throat, drunken memories of yesterday night returning in tantalising flashes, and the memories were rather firm on the fact that he had been dressed in his official uniform.

"Oh, don't worry, I haven't done anything...yet." Itou said, his voice tinged with amusement, "I like my partners to be perfectly aware of who I am and what precisely I'm doing do them."

"I treat our deal as being still on foot, Hijikata-kun," he whispered softly, "I really hope you've missed me."

Hijikata had a brief battle with Muramasa - the sword won in the end, and Tosshi took over, quickly moving in to dictate his responses to the hands that had now fully undressed him. 

"I've dreamed of having you cowering under me," Itou said with a sigh, "But I really much prefer you being stubborn and rebellious - it makes it all so much more satisfying."

The otaku shuddered in terror while Hijikata himself trembled with uncontrolled fury. Muramasa seemed an unassailable weight that refused to budge no matter how he pushed against it. Through his view from the deepest recesses of his soul, he watched Tosshi cower in fright, tears rolling down his cheeks as Itou turned him over and roughly took him from behind.

"Nevertheless, I'll take anything I can get," Itou said, "But do return to your normal self eventually, Hijikata-kun."

Hijikata seethed at the humiliation.

***

XI. _Shimotsuki_ : Frost

Okita found Hijikata after on his futon where Itou left him in one of his extremely rare moments of self-possession, Tosshi having broken down under the pressure and fled back into the comforts of his steel sanctum, leaving Hijikata to deal with the aftermath of the trauma that Tosshi had inflicted upon his physical body. Tosshi, not Itou, for Itou, in his curiosity and professed dislike of the new Hijikata beyond his physical appearance, had tried every means possible to force Tosshi to retaliate in self-defence, something which Tosshi failed to do; in fact, Tosshi was so incapacitated by terror that he failed even to surrender Hijikata's body to its actual owner at the beginning of the ordeal, when Hijikata would still have been able to make some use of his body to fight back. 

"Hijikata-san, I knew there had been someone else ever since that first time," Okita said.

"Didn't know it was him, however," he continued frostily. "Hijikata-san, you have extremely weird tastes.

Sister excluded," he added as an afterthought.

"Are you yourself right now?" he asked. Hijikata did not bother to answer; talking seemed to require almost herculean strength right now.

"I guess not," Okita said, sounding almost disappointed. "Don't worry, Hijikata-san, or otaku-san, whichever one you are right now." He gathered Hijikata in his arms. "It's all going to be over really, really soon."

***

Itou's grave lay among the graves of the Shinsengumi members sacrificed in battle. A man who committed seppuku died with honour, and one who went forward to meet his sentence also died as one of the Shinsengumi. His grave was a simple, unadorned plot of soil, like the many others that had died before him and with him; they owned nothing but their swords, which they brought into their graves with them. 

_If only he were you._

Hijikata looked up at the white buds that lined the branches of the plum blossom tree next to Itou's grave. Despite his ancestry and heritage, Itou was strangely unasked for; most Shinsengumi members with family members had a relative that stepped forward to claim them at death - normally a request that was refused unless it was the deceased's own express will to be returned to his ancestral home.

"How long are you planning to stand there for?" he asked suddenly. 

Gintoki shifted and straightened himself slightly from his slouch against one of the poles. "It says there personnel only."

"Natural perm, it says so on the _inside_ of the door out into this courtyard."

Gintoki scratched his head. "Really? Oh well, that's what comes out of owing massive debts - you don't get to dictate your creditors' movements, even when they're in your territory." He grinned. "I could probably bankrupt the Shinsengumi right now if I wanted to."

"Not without proof of debt, you can't. Harada told me he hasn't signed anything."

Gintoki shrugged. "Fine, then I could bankrupt both you and Gorilla. Express verbal agreement." He idly picked his nose and flicked the pickings off his fingers.

"He said we were alike," Hijikata said suddenly.

"You and him?" Gintoki scoffed, "How could anyone share your love for dog food?"

Hijikata rested his chin on his knees. "I think we were." He pulled his haori more tightly around himself. The winter this year was bitingly cold. 

"I should have realised earlier what he needed," he said softly.

The long silence after that prompted him to turn around. Gintoki was looking at him thoughtfully, his half-lidded eyes a tad wider in their contemplative state. 

"Trust me, you're not alike at all. And I'm telling you this from my complete and totally unbiased view of you as a masochistic mayonnaise addict who enjoys nothing more than inflicting trauma upon himself."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, natural perm."

"Really? You seemed to be begging for it."

"Shut up."

***

XII. _Shiwasu_ : Prayer

"Vice Commander, Sensei left this for you." The young member fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, almost fleeing in relief when Hijikata carelessly dismissed him with a nod of his head, leaving behind a bundle wrapped in coarse sackcloth.

The rough fabric fell apart to reveal two branches of bamboo, verdant and brilliant under the early winter dawn. A small note was tied with a red string to one of the branches.

_Hijikata Toushirou - Spring of the past year_

"Toshi," Kondou entered the room with Sougo by his side. "Time to countdown to _hatsunohide_." Hijikata carefully rewrapped the branches in the cloth and stood up. "I'll be there."

"Who's that from?" Sougo asked curiously. Hijikata hesitated a moment before replying.

"An old friend."

*** 

 


End file.
